


Of cloaks and daggers

by beautifulwhensarcastic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Medieval Spies, Pepper is the Queen, Steampunk Musketeers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 16:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10416726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulwhensarcastic/pseuds/beautifulwhensarcastic
Summary: Steve, the Captain of Queen Virginia’s guard, finds an intruder in his quarters. Though she’s dressed with clear intention on hiding her identity, he recognizes Margaret Carter - Queen’s loyal friend and spy. She comes to him seeking help.





	

He stays unmoved, focused, scanning the perimeter even as he feels Bucky sliding in next to him on the narrow ledge. Though enemies grew bolder and nowadays tend to hide among colourful masses sweeping through the court in broad daylight, Steve knows the veil of the night is still most tempting time to strike.

The threat is greater now, he knows. For years Cardinal Stane has been weaving his little agendas, mostly for his own profits. But his hunger for power has increased. Underneath the perfected mien of a humble advisor there's a greedy bastard just waiting to get rid of Queen Virginia and take over the throne. 

He's smart, too, which makes Steve even more vigilant.

So Steve doubled the sentinels - his most trustworthy of Howling Commandos. Designated new watchpoints too. Like the ridge of cathedral where he’s hunkered now, right under Stane’s nose. Or rather above it. He keeps standard guard in posts well known to Cardinal’s spies as well, so they can feed the greedy pig with false sense of assurance. 

Knowing she wouldn't be happy about it, Steve didn't mention the special warden shadowing Queen and watching out for anything suspicious in her surroundings.

Ready to hand over the post to Bucky, Steve nods at his second in command then pulls the hood of his cloak over his head. He moves to the edge and with a final glance around jumps down.

Cardinal’s Red Guards, as usual more interested in warming themselves with booze and bawdy boasting, don’t notice the Captain of Howling Commandos slip by in the shadows to disappear in the labirynth of steets. 

Many people, locals included, often get lost in the city's winding alleys. Especially at night when the yellow glow of lampposts blurs everything. Each tavern looks the same. But Steve grew up here. He ran down these streets and climbed the walls in order to avoid getting beaten.

He moves unnoticed through the streets without difficulty, thankful no miscreants get in his way. 

Steve has little to no self control when it comes to punching some sense of respect into bullies awaiting their prey. 

Not tonight, though. He's tired. Has been for the past few weeks. To the point where restlessness takes over his nights and sleep becomes merely an hour of vigilant napping. 

Steve senses he won't be granted even that as he enters his quarters. 

Seemingly nothing is out of ordinary, but in the small space he knows every centimeter of by heart it’s easy to sense the unexpected presence. Steve notices the barely visible shift in the shadows. 

The intruder is smart, choosing the spot with easy access to two exits. But not smart enough considering he came alone for the Captain of Queen’s Guard.

Steve moves quickly, dodging the first predictable move. One flick of his wrist and the famous shield spreads out - serving more as a distraction of shimmering metal cutting through the darkness. Intruder’s attack falters as his gaze falls on the rusty red and blue solidly protecting the glowing star in the middle. Steve uses it to his advantage, hitting the assailant with the shield.  

Caught off guard for a second, Steve’s opponent recovers quickly. Surges forward and gracefully ducks under the next swing of the shield. He’s skilled, Steve has to admit that, but rather reluctant, as if not really wanting to cause any damage. That confuses Steve. He flexes his forearm, causing the shield to fold, then wraps his fingers around the assailaint's wrist. He twists the arm behind his opponent’s back. With the other hand he grips him by the throat and slams against the wall.

Not him, he realizes instantly. Her. 

Brown locks spill from beneath the hood of her cloak, a faint scent of flowery perfume hits Steve's nostrils and a very angry hiss draws his attention to fiery red lips.

"This isn't the usual way ladies use to catch my attention," he says coldly, his tone lacking any pleased arrogance one could expect.

The tip of a dagger presses just below his ribs, a small crack in his guard which she instantly used to her advantage. Or maybe he just lets her think that she could hurt him with a single thrust of the blade? Given how calm and indifferent he stays, she begins to wonder.

Margaret glares at him, tightening her grip on the brass hilt. "Not here to stroke your ego, Captain." 

Though her line of work requires ability to deal with and sometimes manipulate men, she's not one to happily play that game. Even if it comes easily to her.

There's a tinge of disappointment, too. All the intel she has on Rogers painted a picture of a man immune to cajolery. 

Then again, Margaret knows anyone can be seducted. It's just the means of seduction that change depending on the person. Captain Rogers' weak spot is loyalty - a trait they share and which she hopes to call on. With a little help of threat, if needed. Though that seems to be ineffective.

Rogers’ unimpressed disdain to the blade in her hand irritates Margaret. 

He simply lets go of her, not even flinching at the small tear her dagger makes in his cloak. He takes it off and carlessly throws over the back of a chair. Margaret barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. Despite the semi-darkness she has noticed the overall mess in Captain’s quarters. For an army man Rogers has no sense of tidiness.

"What are you here for, then?" Steve asks, sounding rather uninterested. He switches on the lamp in the corner and sits on a creaking chair by the small table. 

Dim light frames right side of his face. Few hair in his dark beard glint with golden blonde, harmonious to some streaks in his hair. Long eyelashes cast a wickedly long shadow on his cheek when Steve tilts his head to the side.

There's a dark, bulbous bottle on the table and he reaches for it, pouring himself a full glass, not once glancing back at Margaret. A honey-colored liquid with a sweet fragrance which he gulps thirstily.

He refills the glass. And doesn't offer her one.

Margaret arches a brow, somewhat surprised by his behavior. All the reports described Captain as an exceptionally good man. Passionate and determined, yes, edging on reckless. Always going into action first, ready to give his life on the line before any of his men have to. A man with values. And here he is... an asshole.

She tilts her chin defiantly and unfastens her grey coat. If Rogers notes her deep cleavage, or the golden skewer-blades hidden in the frame of her brown corset, he doesn't show it. His gaze lingers on her face.

Soft features disguising acute mind and even sharper tongue. 

"I'm a lady who found herself in possession of some disturbing news," Peggy states with a little quiver in her voice. A truly subtle acting for which Steve would undoubtedly fall, if he didn't know who she really was. "You're the Captain of the Howling Commandos, Queen's loyal guard. I assumed informing you of possible threat coming Queen's way is the right thing to do. It's not like I can tell the Queen myself."

Steve shakes his head, irritated, and takes a sip of mead. "Try again."

"Like I said-"

"Don't bullshit me," he snarls and puts the glass on the table with a bit more force than needed. Fuck, he is tired. Too tired to play mind games. 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, before he looks back at her. The blue of his irises turns icy.

"We both know you could have gone directly to the Queen. Easily. The fact you didn't means you're afraid of who might see you, or hear what you have to say."

A shadow crosses Margaret's face, her eyes narrowing. Maybe she was wrong in her assessment? Maybe he's the one she should be afraid of and gut him before he has a chance to hand Virginia to Cardinal Stane on a silver platter.

_No_ , Margaret shakes her head. Stane hates Rogers. He's searching for a way to get rid of the Rabid Beast - as he described the Captain in his letters to Pierce.

She kicks a nearby stool toward the table and takes a seat across from Rogers. "What do you know about me?" She demands, reaching for the flask and drinking straight from it. The spicy sweetness coats her tongue, starting a fire in her belly. Mead. She hates mead.

"You're Margaret Carter," though Steve maintains a somewhat impassive, if only a little annoyed tone, her name sounds oddly different in his lips. Softer, yet prurient. Peggy blames the mead for thinking so. 

"Queen's most trustworthy spy in Pierce's court."

Steve knows more. He knows her middle name is Elizabeth and that eight years ago she was betrothed to Frederick Wells, Pierce's nephew. The guy died before the wedding, a tragic accident which Steve believes was no accident at all. Margaret stayed at the court, though. Mingling, forming alliances, taking lovers. Spying for Virginia.

She still wears the same red lipstick. He remembers it so vividly - the lipstick, her smile, dark curls bouncing as she danced. Margaret used to sneak into taverns to drink and dance with the soldiers. 

And to learn. 

Fuck it, Steve’s sure Bucky’s the one who taught her how to shoot. Meaning she’s deadly with a rifle.  

"Virginia trusts you a lot, I see," Margaret feels a prickle of jealousy. For years she granted herself the right to call herself the only real friend of the Queen. Given how rarely she visits, she shouldn't be surprised Virginia found someone else to confide in.

Rogers shakes his head. "I'd be a lousy Captain of Queen's personal guard if I didn't know all the nasty secrets."

Margaret studies him for a longer moment. Stane might be right about one thing, that Steve Rogers shouldn't be underestimated. 

She nods sharply then takes another swig of the mead. She doesn't notice Steve's eyes following the single, golden drop trickling from the corner of her mouth down her chin. It lands on her breast and Steve quickly averts his gaze.

"Stane sold his soul to Pierce for the promise of Virginia's throne," Margaret says bluntly, putting the bottle down on the table. "Stane's plotting in general isn't anything new, but Pierce is a force to be reckoned with. While he was rather uninterested in aiding Stane so far, now he's really eager. And that got me wondering."

She frowns, she has so many pieces of that puzzle but it still isn't forming a whole picture. "My, uh, source here at the court-"

"Romanoff," Steve nods absentmindedly, like it's the most obvious conclusion and Margaret finds herself surprised once again. It makes her wonder what gain the Captain of Queen’s personal guard has in letting foreign spies stay in the court, especially ones as skilled as Natasha.

Maybe it's his form of counterintelligence, keep your enemies closer and all that.

Steve arches a brow at Margaret when she stays silent. He may be only a soldier, but even he is aware that spies usually know of each other. And profit from that knowledge and connections like in a barter system. Unless one dares to cross the subtle line of political play, they rarely get rid of each other in an aggressive way.

He is curious, however, if Carter knows about Romanoff's real identity. He doubts it. Tsarevna makes sure those who learn of her rights to the frozen throne on the far East die quickly.

"Yes," Margaret admits, realizing verbal charades and subtlety aren't Rogers' weapons of choice. Direct frankness it is. Such an inverse to what she is used to. "According to Romanoff, Stane has been quietly withdrawing our troops from the borders."

"Making it easier for Pierce's army to charge in." Steve grits his teeth. His hands instinctively clench, as if ready to punch someone.

"Not only, Captain. With Stane's sick games Virginia has already lost some endorsement. Stane will roar that the Queen has weakened our army and thus our country-"

"And panicked lambs will follow their enlightened Cardinal," Steve nods, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"Under Virginia's reign a war with Duke Pierce becomes a serious threat, but give the power to Stane and puff! A quick peace treaty." A serious victory for Stane, but truly a smokescreen for Pierce's real plans.

Having Stane as his puppet to rule here is merely an additional gain to whatever Pierce has planned. And it's going to be something big, Margaret is sure of it. She has to figure out what hides behind the seemingly innocent code that Pierce and Rumlow have been using for the last few months -  

Red Star.


End file.
